Falling of a mask: part 5, Settle the Score
by candelight
Summary: Batman himself is about to show up, extremely infuriated-as he believes Robin was badly hurt by Slade. Slade has a score to settle with Batman over his harmed son, who still lies in a comatose state....


Hello-I had fun writing this series. A lot of people mentioned…Bruce Williams-I hope I got that right-Batman-as Robin's father and they thought that kind of sweet. Well, after researching him a bit, I realized that it was pretty sweet.

So, to make a long story even more dramatic, guess who shows up in a cold fury?

Quote:

"The affection of that of an ere, true father

Runs deeply and compassionately over an emotionally scarred and burnt world."

Not sure why I added the quote….but I felt like I should add something special to the series. There will be one more-only if you guys ask for one, otherwise I can move onto another project-called A Father's affection, with the ending not what anyone-not even what I-expected!

Oh, and also, thank you. This is also a shout out to all the people who were kind enough to give me very encouraging emails. If I do make a chapter six, I hope I can make a Credits part.

Robin turned, groaned, and tossed again. A hand, cold from gripping the cool metal medical appliances, laid itself soothingly on the young hero's forehead.

Slade sighed, and reached for the oxygen mask again to apply it to Robin's mouth. Robin wasn't well. The physical and emotional stress of the whole incident over the past three days had taken its toll severely on the Boy Wonder.

The Titans were still digging up half the city in the search for their young leader, but to no avail. The underground base where Slade lurked was still too difficult to detect.

Speaking of which…..Slade's fist tightened.

It was time he called….an old acquaintance in to this matter. More then familiar with his ward currently under his care….

Slade carefully unbuckled Robin-he belted him in this time, afraid he would harm himself but straining too much-and carefully carried the boy over to the dome underneath the floor that was beginning to open…and slowly placed him inside the bed, watching as the metal closed over the boy as it reverted to it's original form….

At least Robin would be safe under the armored metal-for he had a feeling what would follow would be more then under the terms of extreme danger.

Two enraged hardened souls……

But Slade knew it had to be done-else he wouldn't have any peace.

His footsteps echoing in the dark metal cavern, Slade walked with his hands behind his back, eyes glinting maniacally as he finally reached what he'd wanted to use-his communicator.

Pressing a few buttons on the complicated looking device and turning a few dials…

Yes. It activated. The screen began to flicker uneasily….it would take a moment to adjust.

Speaking of which, during his little…conference, he needed something….

Or someone….

To retrieve.

Slade turned his back on the monitor, carefully pulled out a limp and crumpled figure, and set him gently on the swivel chair in front of the computer, turning it so the limp teen did not face the screen.

Ah! Now, it was picking up a signal….

Bruce had just been handed a cup of tea from his butler with a small smile.

"Thanks, but I'm sure if we tried to cover east Gothem instead of South before tomorrow, I'm sure we-"

And the module began to flicker. Bruce immediately ridgened as he swung around.

There, staring at him with cold, cold eyes, remasked once more-the one criminal he could never catch-

Slade. 

Bruce's butler stepped back, a small O for his mouth. A snarl bloomed on Bruce's face, his eyes narrowing at the villain who was watching him with cruel enjoyment.

"Slade," he growled, stepping forward, out of the shadows. "How….how did you find this frequency? It's….private. It's not like-"

"I suggest you stop dithering your hopeless lies, you little fool." Slade's voice had an edge to it. "It's not exactly difficult to guess who you are."

"I have no idea what you're-"

"You make a poor liar, Batman."

Bruce stared at Slade, his mind whirling.

"So, you know," he said softly, glaring at him with great dislike. "Now what? You want me to step aside so you can target whoever you like? You want me to hand over a device?" Bruce's eyes narrowed in anger.

"You can't make me move Slade."

"I bet I can-and I will."

For the first time, Bruce smirked.

"Oh-I'm terrified. It takes a lot more then that to bang me up, Slade. But you're welcome to try."

"Oh? And what if I said I wasn't after any of the following you stated?"

Bruce seemed to become a little confused at this point. He frowned at the hardened villain.

"Well, why is it you decided to contact me?"

"What if I said I had something of your-"Slade cut off with a scowl. Not quite right.

"Well, what if I had something you cared for, Batman? Something you would be really quite sorry to lose?"

Batman's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I doubt you would have anything of true value towards me, Slade."

For the first time, Slade laughed. It was not a happy one. Bruce's butler frowned and stepped closer.

Something…something dangerous was about to happen. It was palpable in the air.

"Well, you say it takes a lot more then that to bang you up, eh?"

Slade put a hand on the chair beside him where he stood.

"Here comes a lot more."

He slowly turned it around to face the module-

Bruce and his butler gave startled cries of fear and astonishment.

SMASH!

Bruce's Teacup went shattering to the ground, contents spilling wildly everywhere.

"No….."

Bruce's eyes were wide, transfixed by horror. If you've ever seen Batman lose his nerve, it is NOT a pretty sight. Bruce's Butler stepped back, his tea tray fumbling downwards to the floor with a Bang.

"Good…..good heavens," he managed to whisper, raising two shaking hands over his mouth. "It's…..it's the young master, Robin!"

Slade pulled the unconscious boy into his arms, an act obviously not appreciated by the two as their originally confident expressions turned to that of…panic.

Bruce's face hardened into cold fury.

"Slade," he growled, fist clenched so tightly that tiny specks of blood were dripping from where his fingernails dug into his palm. "Slade…" He slammed his fist onto the keyboard in angry desperation.

Robin gave the tiniest gasp, as if he recognized the sound of his Foster father's voice. Bruce's eyes softened somewhat, and he stepped back, never taking his eyes off the two, scanning

Robin did not look at all like himself-more like a pale apparition of the real Boy Wonder. He had been unmasked, and his face was slightly flushed, though it looked….

It looked….

Deathly pale. Bruce's eyes quickly traveled in and out, this way and that as he hurried to squint and see if there were any signs of critical damage.

Robin had bandages here and there-one was bleeding-bad sign-and then-

Bruce almost lost the ability to breathe.

An…oxygen mask? Robin had only been hurt that badly quite a few years ago, when…..

…..when the poor eleven year old had been trying to free Batman in under a pile of debris.

The earthquake had certainly shaken up their city, and tiny fires had started everywhere. Despite the police that were beginning to swarm in, despite the fact that Batman lay crumpled under the rubble, hissing at the boy Wonder to RUN, Robin had finally freed his hero….

….only to be mortally injured by the falling of timber from a nearby house.

Batman had managed to carry the little hero back just in time, and was more frantic with worry then he had ever been in his entire life as his faithful butler (I'm really sorry; I don't quite recall his name) carefully worked with batman to save the young boy's life. As least the poor lad wasn't paralyzed.

Finally, a day and a half later, when he'd woken up, Bruce had actually-Batman himself had pulled him in a backbreaking hug and told him never, (he was nearly growling) to EVER put them like that again.

Robin had promised…..kind of still trying to breathe.

Bruce had had a very tight grip.

"What," snarled Bruce, his voice becoming quite obviously dangerous. "Have you been doing with Robin? Why is he-?!"

Slade shifted Robin a little in his arms.

That had been a mistake.

Although Slade had been painstakingly gentle towards Robin, trying not to give him any additional pain, he accidentally rubbed against the burnt flesh.

Robin, still sleeping-the sedative this time was more powerful, and Robin's malady just made it all the more effective-gave out a cry of pain.

Bruce's butler had gasped, eyes widening all the more. Bruce's enraged face turned again to panicked worry.

"What? What is it you want, Slade?!"

Slade's face had whitened quite a bit at his son's pain, now very gently lowering him back onto the chair.

But Batman could only see a pyromaniacal, psychosomatic evil villain tormenting the last bit of family he had left….

"And what is it YOU want, Batman?"

Batman growled. "I….think it's remotely obvious. I….err….."

Don't make it sound like he means much to you, thought the dark knight quickly. If you let Slade see, he'll-

"Well, Batman, as I can see you're clearly not interested in our little boy wonder here," said Slade maliciously, eyes glinting. "I'll just…." He began to make the motions of picking Robin up once more.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HIM, YOU CONNIVING-YOU EVIL-!"

Slade stopped and smirked.

Bruce had gone bone white, and he was glaring at Slade with such cold hatred that his eyes were full of dark fire.

Trying to reclaim his breath and composure, he stared at Slade straight in the eyes. He began to speak once more, trying to, with no avail, keep the frantic edge from his voice.

"Why……why do you have him? What happened to him? Did YOU do this? Where are you? If you so much as-"

"We talk, Mr. Wayne," said Slade silkily. "I'll enclose the cuardnets on your database to where we meet."

"WE CAN TALK NOW." Bruce had not meant to scream, but now his blood was literally boiling.

"Using a monitor? So impersonal. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Haven't you and your grimy urchin habits-it's more then revolting. I'm faxing you as we speak."

Sure enough, the machine next to Batman's butler's elbow (I have a lousy database, so I just don't know his name….very sorry!) made a quiet click! And a beep! Noise that made the two jump as a piece of paper began to slowly slide out, then, with another click! Lay against the board, tiny ink dots everywhere on the design. Bruce snatched it up and began to scan it, his eyes in a blur as he sped read, trying to take it all in quickly.

"You say you wish to talk? What reassurance do I have that, if I do, I won't be surrounded by your cyborgs? And that you'll hand over Robin safely to me?"

At this, Slade gave a mocking bow.

"I swear upon my honor that it will be me and me alone present at our little…get together."

"The honor of a thief? As if anyone can trust that." 

Slade shrugged, as if to say it wasn't particularly his problem. "It's up to you whether or not you believe me. However…." his eyes glinted-"If you choose NOT to come at precisely 11:00 pm tonight, then I am reassured you neither want, nor have any need of Robin. And then, I will take it from there."

What little color remained in Bruce's face drained. He raised a shaking finger to Slade.

"If you so much as hurt one square inch of Robin's skin, and I swear to you, you'll wish you were never born."

Slade scowled in annoyance. Of course Bruce would be talking as if he was really and truly Robin's father.

"You….won't get away with this," said Bruce unsteadily.

Slade merely shrugged again.

"Perhaps I will, perhaps I…well, I think, when you cross a deal with ME, there is very, very little chance of succeeding, Mister Wayne. You have eight hours now.

Oh, and Bruce?

Your clock is ticking.

Time is running out."

And, with another Click! The monitor went blank to static.

* * * *

"Please, sir…"

"No."

"Sir, it is surely a trap, please, let me go with you!"

Batman smiled partly bitterly, partly wearily, and partly with amusement and gentle mockery.

"He has Robin. I can't take the chance that he'll give him back to me peacefully-and…." Batman swallowed as he stared at the control panels.

It was five 0 clock. Arthur (that seems like a good butler name) was wringing his hands imploringly as Bruce was preparing for phase two of this mission.

"Let me go with you, sir, PLEASE, I implore you-"

"Someone has to stay and give me help from behind the scenes, right? If….." Batman's dark glove tightened over the wheel.

"If…Robin's seriously hurt…well, Arthur, you care for Robin, right?"

"I-I-Of course!" spluttered Arthur, looking indignant and hurt. "Sir……you and Young master Robin are the most important people to me!"

Batman smiled again.

"I….am glad to hear that. Arthur, if I signal that there' a way to get only one of us out, get Robin with the chopper, and go."

Arthur seemed at a loss for words.

"Sir…I…..I could never in good conscience…ever.."

"Well, maybe it won't come to that." Bruce flipped the mask over his face, cloaking himself in darkness and smiling wistfully.

"This…this is my entire fault, Arthur. I….I don't think…….I don't think I could…stand it if you or Robin gets hurt.

If I hadn't let him go join the Titans-they must not have fought hard to keep their leader safe, if I had tried harder to make him stay in Gothem….if I had just-"

"Sir."

Bruce looked up.

"There….is not a soul without regret and remorse in its depths. Not one.

If such a thing existed…..

He would be a shallow and empty s Bruce had just nodded, throat too tight to speak. His revved up the Batmobile as the tunnel began to open up with a whirling noise…

And, like a black dart, sped away into the darkness ahead.

Arthur's hand was still raised in farewell. He slowly lowered it, feeling very old and very weary.

He had his doubts about Master raising a child, but the little infant just seemed to really love Batman. Robin could hardly stop crying or fussing unless Batman-or Bruce, as we shall say it-was in the room.

Robin had been a quiet lad-he had scars from that fiery blaze under and around his eyes-not to mention a few on his arms.

Reason why he wore a mask and gloves. Robin had always tried hard to succeed, was serious, yet fun loving, and always up for a challenge. It had been most dreary when he had left for that crime infested rat hole of a town.

But then again, considering Gothem….well, maybe he shouldn't point fingers.

"Come back safely," said Arthur quietly, still peering anxiously at the tunnel.

"Both of you….come back safely.

Please…"

The game was about to start.

Excellent.

Slade knew what he had to accomplish.

Slade tucked Robin back in the container, hesitated, then pulled off his own mask and carefully leaned the child against one of his strong arms.

Then the villain did a strange thing; he cupped Robin's face in his hand as he had done when Robin was no more then an infant-and quietly kissed him on the head.

Gruffly, he lay the motionless figure back in, and allowed the metal shell to close over the hero.

"Be safe…little bird."

Then, Slade reattached his mask, and hurried off.

* * * * *

Batman raced through the streets. If the location was correct on the map wasn't indeed false, then he couldn't drive the Mobile underground.

Fine. He would take the villain on, one on one….

"You've made a mistake, Slade," snarled Bruce as he continued to tear through the streets like a madman.

"A HUGE mistake….."

Bruce scowled as he drove out to the point where he would have to go on foot.

Getting out, He popped out Robin's little wristband, the little four year old Robin insisted he wear when Batman had confronted joker once and for all. Bruce would not permit Robin to go with him…much to Robin's displeasure, so he merely sat by where the Batmobile had been, and stubbornly refused to leave for bed, much to Arthur's gentle amusement.

When Bruce had returned weary but triumphant that night-morning, actually, seeing as it was one am, he found, to his astonishment, Robin still snoozing on the cold ground. Arthur had been afraid to upset the young master if he tried to move him.

Bruce had smiled gently, picked up the little body, and began to carry him up the steps, Robin's little face buried in Bruce's dark cloaked shoulder.

* * * * * *

"Hang on, Robin," muttered Batman, angrily swiping at his face as he tucked the wristband away. This was no time to be going to pieces.

And so, as Bruce crept through the darkness, he could not help but whisper:

"Robin….don't worry. I'm coming for you."

He ducked into a nearby alley.

Sometimes, what Robin had called him quietly touched his heart without him realizing.

It is surreal to a lot of new parents, to hear themselves being referred to as much, but many enjoy it nonetheless

Bruce Wayne was no different.

With the loss of his own parents, Robin had been a supporting structure-they even looked a little alike.

Batman rushed ahead, head spinning, heart pounding.  
."Just wait a little longer, kiddo.

…..Father's coming for you."

A grey pallor seemed to come onto Robin's face as he awoke with a start.


End file.
